


Dinner Preparations

by thursdayshunter



Series: House in the Woods [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cannibalism, Cannibalistic Thoughts, Dark Magic, Hunting Humans, Magic-Users, Mental Torture, Non-Consensual Touching, OMC witch, Object Insertion, Prompt Fic, Prompt Fill, Restraints, Speculum, Torture, Violence, You Have Been Warned, cannibalism without knowing, mentions of eating people, oh and mentions of castration, pre-season one dean, this is totally fucked up...seriously messed up, yet another fucked up prompt fill from me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-16
Updated: 2016-02-08
Packaged: 2018-05-14 07:58:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5735803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thursdayshunter/pseuds/thursdayshunter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His belongings were gathered up and removed from the room as Dean looked around. He was currently in the kitchen it seemed as he took in his surroundings and his eyes landed on an unnaturally large oven.</p><p>It was something straight out of a Hansel and Gretel nightmare that he didn’t want a thing to do with.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> READ THE WARNINGS/TAGS
> 
> There is blatant talk of cannibalizing people and cooking people. It isn't bloody and no one gets actually eaten "on screen" in the first chapter but it is more than obvious where it's going. The second chapter is where the actual eating occurs so if you want to skip reading Dean being eaten simply stick to the first chapter.
> 
> More info at bottom.
> 
> If you want to skip the Major Character Dean part in this fic simply go to the second part in this "series". It has the alternate version without any MCD but make no mistake Dean doesn't walk away unscathed.

Dean’s head pounded, his vision blurred and everything seemed to ache. “Well didn’t I find a pretty one this time? Nice supple skin, a meaty ass and thighs.” Hands moved over his body as Dean moaned lowly in pain. His head lulled to the side and his eyes fluttered as he failed to pry them open.

He was hauled up as he tried to focus and the hands on him disappeared leaving him laid out on a hard surface. It was difficult to focus on his surroundings and hard to remember how he’d gotten to this point. The last thing Dean remembered was stumbling across a house in the middle of the woods and thinking how out of place it looked.

“Oh I bet you’ll taste delicious. Better than the last one. He didn’t have much meat on him but he had a nice flavor with the right seasoning.”

There was a tugging on Dean’s feet as his shoes were pulled off and fell to the floor with dull thuds. His socks were next as he struggled to move away but a hand gripped the back of his head and then his head knocked off the wooden surface he was laid out on.

“ _Fuck_.”

“Such language.” The older man tsked at him as Dean’s right arm was yanked out from under him and he groaned as the other was moved away from his body. Rope bit into the skin of his wrists as his arms were secured down.

Dean’s vision swam and his awareness went in and out as both of his legs were tied down so they were spread obscenely wide to the point his joints ached. “Gonna kill ya.” He managed after groaning in pain, “First thing.” The rope around his ankles and wrists didn’t give, tight and coarse, as the old man moved around.

“Where did I put those scissors?” the sound of footsteps went away and slowly returned after a few minutes, “I’ll have to clean you up and out before preparing you, of course. Don’t want to consume something accidentally. I like everything seasoned and prepared perfectly. After so many years of this I've gotten it down to an art form I’m quite proud of.”

The sound of scissors snipping caught Dean’s attention and air brushed against his legs as his pants were methodically cut away. “The fuck?”

“You really shouldn’t wander around in the woods. It isn’t safe you know.” There was amusement in the tone as the man kept cutting away Dean’s pants before tossing the ruined jeans away. “There is some nice meat on these thighs of yours. They’re going to taste good.” A low laugh, “You’re quite bowlegged, aren’t you?”

Dean growled lowly as he forced himself to try to focus past the pain and the dizziness of multiple blows to the head. He couldn’t quite get his thoughts in order or his focus back to normal but he could make out some of his surroundings.

He was laid out on a large wooden table with some kind of thing around the outside of it that reminded him a bit of guttering on a house. His attention switched from the table as he jerked when the old man cut away his underwear and gripped his ass.

“I was very lucky this time. Lots of good meat here. Lots of firm muscle. This will look nice once it’s stuffed full.”

A hand reached under him and gripped his dick before pulling it back. The same hand touched his balls idly before releasing them and moving back up to his ass.

“Get your hands the fuck off of me!”

“It’s tempting to cut that tongue out and cook it separately. Youth these days seem to be rude by nature. It’s a shame.” The tone was disappointed and Dean tried to jerk his leg so he could kick him. He didn’t know who the fuck this old man was or what he was but Dean wanted to hurt him and he wanted to kill him.

“Fuck you.”

There was no response besides the sound of his shirts being cut away and they joined the rest of his clothing on the ground. Fingers easily removed his watch and jewelry despite protests and his attempts to bite the old man. “I’ll have to burn all of this, of course. I can’t have a bunch of useless items laying around and cluttering up my home. I only keep the license of my meals to go with my before and after images so I can look back at my different recipes.”

His belongings were gathered up and removed from the room as Dean looked around. It seemed he was currently in the kitchen as he took in his surroundings and his eyes landed on an unnaturally large oven.

It was something straight out of a Hansel and Gretel nightmare that he didn’t want a thing to do with.

A glance around behind him showed old looking books in a bookshelf just outside of the kitchen area and various items around the room that screamed of the supernatural. There were a few odd items he couldn’t figure out.

The rest looked normal.

Dean wasn’t completely sure what to make of it as he watched his clothing being deposited into the large fireplace. It slowly caught fire and started to burn as the old man walked back towards him with an excited gleam in his eyes.

“I haven’t quite gotten this step down as well as the others but the drains help with the mess.”

A low squeak sounded before water started pouring over his skin as the old man started to hose him off. It was a cool, steady stream and it was followed up with a sponge that moved over his skin. “You’re fucking sick in the head and I’m going to shove your old crazy ass in that fucking oven the second I get free.”

“Sure you are.” Now the amusement was even more blatantly clear and Dean growled as he yanked at his restraints but the rope only dug into his skin, rubbing and cutting, as he tried to free himself. He managed to cut his wrists up and the old man continued cleaning him up while moving down to his legs as though Dean hadn’t even moved.

It was when the old man reached his ass that the threats flowed from his mouth without pause and full of vitriol. “Touch me there and I’ll fucking gut you. I’ll carve your eyes out and shove them down your fucking throat you sick fuck.”

His ass was scrubbed and his hole was cleaned out regardless of his threats, struggles and attempts at kicking. Next a hand reached for his dick and balls, spraying and scrubbing them, before going on down his legs and eventually finishing at his feet.

“Go ahead. Free me to clean the front I fucking dare you old man.”

“I’ve done this enough I have a system.”

Dean really should have expected to have his head slammed into the table again as he lost consciousness. When he surfaced with a pained sound his left wrist was in the process of getting retied and he tried yanking it away but dizziness slammed into him.

“I’ll let you dry while I get the ingredients. I have a new recipe to try and I think it’ll go perfectly with you.” A hand patted his ass before the sound of cabinets and drawers opening filled the air. Different items ended up on the island in the center of the kitchen along with a cutting board and several different knives. A huge stack of large mixing bowls was piled together off to the side.

“Is this where all of those guys disappeared to?” Dean demanded, “Your fucking crazy cabin in the woods? You’re eating them?”

The old man glanced over at him with a small smile and turned around to open a door at the bottom of the huge oven. “Good thing I chopped fresh wood this morning. I’ll be able to have a nice fire going once I have you in the oven and ready to cook. It’s going to be something smaller though so I can get a slower cook. The meat is always more juicy and succulent if it’s slower.”

“You’re not going to fucking prepare anything! I’m sure as fuck not going in that fucking oven.”

A few minutes passed in silence as Dean continued to tug at the rope, trying to look for weakness and only getting himself cut up even worse. The skin around his ankles felt raw and his wrists were bloody. When Dean finally glanced back over at the old man where he could see the pile of wood that had been off to the side was much smaller.

There was a low clank when the lower door was shut and the old man straightened back up.

“Once I’m finished preparing you I’ll have you slow cooking for hours in my oven. I like to start the fire off smaller and build it up.” The old man turned to his set up at the island, placing a vegetable on the cutting board and picking up a knife. “You’ll be cooked alive, of course, and will feel the fire slowly cooking your flesh. I do love the screams that start once the fire begins to heat the inside of the oven. I think the terror of knowing what’s happening adds something… _more_. Then once you’re done I'll carve off a nice, juicy chunk to start my meal off with.”

“Sick fuck!”

The sound of cutting filled the kitchen, “I know you’re going to taste delicious. All that meat on your body with just enough plumpness to add to your flavor. Right there in those thick thighs, that little pouch on your belly and your very plump ass. You were practically gift wrapped for me.” A hungry look took over the old man’s features. “I always hope my latest meal isn’t too skinny. I want meat on the bones, you know? Something to really dig my teeth into and younger men always have the best flavor. I almost don't need to inject any marinade but I'm afraid that I do love the added flavor it gives your meat.”

Dean yanked at the rope harder not caring how much pain it was causing him as it rubbed his skin raw and drew more blood. “You’re not going to get anywhere near me. I’m going to kill you. I’ll fucking kill you and burn you in that fucking oven.”

The old man neared him and rubbed a hand along his side near his belly, “Just enough extra right here and in your thighs.”

“Get your hands off!”

A sigh escaped, “Struggle all you want but it won’t stop the inevitable. The moment you’re completely prepared and I’m ready I’m going to start cooking you. You’ll know the truth when you’re cooking alive. The fire will be building up underneath you and cooking your pretty freckled skin, heating your soft belly and carefully cooking your insides.”

Terror twisted inside him and Dean could feel panic trying to steal the breath right from his lungs. He wasn’t going out like this. There was no way he was going to be cooked alive and eaten but the old man was painting a very vivid image in his mind.

The cutting and chopping resumed.

“I think I’ll put an apple in your mouth before. I know that’s typically used for hogs but I think it’s just the thing for you. I’ll miss the loud screams, of course, but presentation is just as important as taste and I’ve always wanted to cook a meal with an apple stuffed in the mouth. Those plump lips of yours will look perfect around a bright red apple.”

The vegetables were added to the large pans on the stove and the old man started on pouring ingredients into a couple bowls. Dean couldn’t quite make out what the old man was cutting and cooking but he could smell it well enough.

“I’m quite excited about dinner tonight. You’ll last me for days but tonight, hot out of the oven and fresh, you’ll be at peak flavor. I always go for the thighs first, they’re my favorite. Thinking about it, though, I’m almost tempted to remove your balls before putting you in and then fry them as a side or possibly a snack while I wait.”

Dean yanked viciously at the rope, “Let me go! Fucking let me go right fucking now you crazy son of a bitch! Fuck fuck fuck!”

“I think I will. I haven’t had fried balls in awhile. They remind me of mountain oysters. Have you had those? They’re delicious and it’s fortunate that I still have some sauce left over that would go nicely with fried balls.”

He hauled out a pot, poured in some oil and turned it up before pulling out more ingredients from the cabinet. A breading mix and a shallow bowl ended up off to the side near the sink.

“I really am looking forward to this. I’ve been out of fresh meat for several days, that last young man didn’t have much meat on him I’m afraid and it really was luck that you stumbled upon my home. I saw you when I glanced out the window and I just knew you’d make a delicious meal. You saved me having to lure someone out here.”

The scent of cooking filled the kitchen as Dean squirmed on top of the table and attempted to regulate his breathing which had started to quicken.

“And I have a new stuffing recipe to try as well! It has a different seasoning that I just know is going to really add to your overall flavor. With your size, all of that meat on your bones, I’m going to make one of my largest portions. I want you nice and stuffed full when I put you in to cook. Your belly will be bulging with stuffing when I'm finished.”

“You’re going to die.” Dean glared, still working at his bindings and failing repeatedly. “You’re going to die begging for mercy and I’m going to enjoy it. Every single fucking minute you beg me.”

A soft laugh escaped, “Your parents should have washed that filthy mouth of yours out more often. You must have been a handful.” The old man moved back to the stove to add more ingredients into the huge pan before stirring. Dean could hear him humming under his breath as he moved about the kitchen.

He poured some other ingredients into another large bowl, stirring and still humming, before picking up a baster and walking towards Dean. “Get away from me. Get the fuck away.”

The old man only grinned at him and stuck the baster into the bowl before he started to add the oil to Dean’s body. “This might go a little faster if…” he trailed off and soon the mixture, some kind of oil, was being lightly poured along Dean’s body. “There we go.”

After the bowl was set aside fingers started spreading the oil around. The old man brushed the oil over Dean’s arms, his back and legs making sure to liberally coat both his ass and thighs. Some was added to Dean’s face despite his thrashing and threats.

Fingers knotted in his hair again and Dean expected to get his head slammed off the table but instead his head was yanked up and his throat, collar bone and some of his chest were coated with oil. Afterwards the bowl was placed down and the old man came back.

Dean jolted when hands touched him again. They were pushing and working his skin and muscles methodically. “I can already imagine how you’re going to taste.” Fingers worked his body, rubbing the oil in more and digging into Dean’s muscles.

It was the feeling of a tongue, coupled with hot breath, that had Dean screaming for help.

“Help! Someone help me! Fuck. Help please HELP!!”

The tongue pressed against him and licked at his thigh, “Delicious and I haven’t even finished.” The hands moved over him, tongue tasting and pressing, as Dean shouted and begged. “Smell that? That’s going in the mix for the stuffing. I’ve made more than enough to fill you up with.”

Once more the old man was over by the stove, bringing the pan to the island and mixing things together. Multiple large mixing bowls joined the others on the island once the cutting board had been removed. Box upon box was opened, dumped into the bowls, as the old man mixed things together. As he lay there, tied down, Dean could feel the circulating air brushing his oil covered skin and prayed his father would come this way during the hunt.

Dean had promised he could handle this. He had promised that he could take this part of the woods and his father the other but it was more than obvious he couldn’t. Dean didn’t want to die and he sure didn’t want to fucking burn to death in an oven for some crazy old man’s dinner.

The sight of a huge kitchen utensil with a bulb-like end that he’d never seen before had his eyes widening and his body tensing up. “This part is a little harder but I bought a speculum specifically for stuffing.” A metal object was waved in the air as the old man mentioned the speculum. "I'll have to go through several different lengths of my own personal homemade kitchen implements to get the stuffing deep enough."

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“This is the most important part of the dish and with your size I need a larger amount of stuffing. A nice dense stuffing, I have found, works best.” The conversational tone was starting to really terrify Dean, “I always make a bunch so I can completely stuff my meal. Need to add some melted butter before the stuffing but first I just need to finish clearing the rest out. Anything in that stomach of yours and your intestines will have to go. I only want butter and stuffing inside of you when you're cooking."

A book was laid out and a finger traced over Dean’s back as the old man murmured something in a foreign language Dean had never heard before. He jerked in surprise when his stomach ached as it was completely emptied. Dean felt different and he tried to make sense of the old man’s words and the feeling in his body. More words and it felt like something was tingling all over his body.

"There we go. Empty and completely hairless."

He didn't have long to wonder at what had happened before something, a different baster, pushed into his ass. Dean jerked at the warm feeling of melted butter being squirted inside him. Once the butter had been added the baster was slipped out and a thumb rubbed over his hole.

"I'll add some more butter once I get you opened enough to stuff."

His ass burned as the old man inserted the speculum without preparation and started spreading his hole open. Dean sobbed at the horrible pain and tried to clench up but the tool kept spreading him wider and wider. “Fuck! Ow I’m going to kill you. I’ll torture you first." he continued sobbing in pain, "You’re dead...fucking dead!”

“I think we can go a little more. I’m going to stuff all of it in and I can get more in if the hole is open much wider.” Dean struggled to stop sobbing through the pain as his ass stretched wider until there was a sound of delight coming from the old man. “There it is. Nice and open. Look at that healthy, pink little hole. It's going to look perfect leaking stuffing when I pull you out of the oven to carve up.”

The baster was slipped back inside him once more and warm liquid was poured into his aching ass. More and more butter was emptied into him until the empty bowl was set down.

"Doesn't that just look perfect? Glistening with rich, creamy butter and ready for one of my favorite parts." A pleased hum sounded, “Some of it is leaking back out of that pretty hole of yours. Oh you’re just delicious looking. I might be tempted to start on this meaty ass of yours first.”

Something warm was pushed against his ass after a few seconds and the tool he’d seen earlier pushed the stuffing inside him. He startled and tried to shy away but his bindings kept him in place and the tool kept him wide open.

“I’m going to have all of these bowls empty when I’m finished. It’s very important to get the right amount of stuffing inside but there is never such a thing as too much. I made quite a few bowls and I know I can get all of it in you. I’ve gotten portions down over the years and I’ll have some extra on the side for later.”

Dean fought through the pain in his ass and the feeling of the old man shoving more and more stuffing into him. He felt full and achy as the old man finished the first large bowl.

“One down and seven more bowls to go. All of them large, of course, because I'm making sure you're nice and bloated for me.” A new bowl was brought over before he started talking again, “This has me thinking about the one time I tried out this new idea of mine that turned out beautifully and I _almost_ replicated with you. After I had thoroughly cleaned out the young man I’d caught for my meal I secured him down so his ass was raised up and inserted the tubing that was part of an enema kit. It was perfect for this new broth I’d created and once his stomach had swelled with it I plugged him up with a large carrot, coated him in a rich seasoned butter mixture until that tan skin shined and put him in the oven. Oh it was such a delicious meal. I had my stuffing on the side, of course, and the broth added to the flavor of the meat.”

“Sick fucker. You’ll get yours. _Fuck_.”

Dean panted as his cheek rested against the wooden table and his body trembled in terror.

"There is something about seeing my meal's stomach swollen with stuffing or broth before sliding the pan into the oven. I love seeing that nice, plump belly hanging under them as they’re cooking."

More stuffing was shoved into Dean as the instrument kept pushing it further and further inside. He could practically feel it as the stuffing filled him up, moving deeper and deeper into him. With each bowl he could feel tears slipping down his cheeks and the ache in his ass increased. The old man left after the third bowl and came back with a new one as well as a longer tool with the same bulb-like end. "Got to make sure I get the stuffing in as far as possible. You might experience some pain from this tool moving through your intestines but nothing fatal. I need to make sure you're thoroughly stuffed."

The humming from earlier resumed as Dean sobbed and begged as the longer tool pushed all of the stuffing deeper within him. He could feel the tool inside him where it had no business being as the stuffing was forced through him. After a few bowls he was left there with the tool shoved deep inside his ass while the old man mixed up some more stuffing.

"I almost thought of using a long dildo for this part but this tool does a good job."

By the sixth bowl Dean could only lay there, twitching and sobbing brokenly, as the old man continued adding more and more stuffing, “Almost finished. This bowl and two more left. Then I'll make another two bowls up for the other end. I need that belly of yours close to bursting with stuffing.” When the last bowl was empty Dean was still sobbing and shuddering. He felt bloated and unnaturally full.

“Should I use a carrot this time or something else? I have a nice fat carrot that’ll keep that stuffing inside while you cook but watching the stuffing lazily leaking out during the cooking process is quite rewarding…both are good choices.”

There was rummaging around in the fridge and another drawer. The water turned on as the old man cleaned the carrot. As he turned Dean could see the carrot in question and it wasn’t a normal sized carrot. It was large and he didn’t want that thing anywhere near his aching hole. He tried moving but each movement had pain blazing through him.

Dean cringed at the pressure in his ass when the speculum was removed and the carrot was shoved inside forcing stuffing further into him until he could feel his hole spread out wide where the end of the carrot stuck out. The long leaves at the end of the carrot brushed against him where they were hanging out of his ass.

“Were you out in the woods alone? Or did you have a friend you were with? I found your gun and that isn’t typical for a young man out in the woods. Something I don’t see very often.”

He didn’t say a word about his father or anything about why he was in the woods. There wasn’t a point. If this wasn’t a normal human Dean wasn’t going to give away that hunters were aware of guys disappearing.

The old man left him once more and continued preparing the rest of his meal as Dean’s inner muscles clenched around the large carrot and stuffing buried inside him. “I would almost have cut your belly open and placed the stuffing inside there but as I mentioned I prefer to cook my meals alive and I'll have two bowls to stuff down your throat for your belly. You'll really look nice and bloated with stuffing when I'm done."

Dean’s head lulled on the table as he tugged at the ropes and groaned lowly. He jolted back into focus when the table he was on started to move, “What the—?”

“It helps me get you into the oven. It’s harder to carry you once I get you on the pan.”

“I have no intention of helping you get me onto a fucking pan let alone into the oven.”

“Oh I know but I have plenty of practice and I’m quite a bit stronger than I look.”

He really should have expected the blow to his head and the lack of awareness as his vision went out, his focus gone and he felt like he was floating. Idly Dean felt his wrists being freed and his ankles. He felt himself getting shifted onto his back as melted butter was rubbed into his skin.

"Look at that." a hand rubbed seasoned butter onto his belly where it bulged slightly, "Already such a nice, full swell from the stuffing. I'm sure I could have gotten more in but that's what the other bowls are for after all. Once I get all of that stuffing down your throat your belly is going to be nice and fat." Dean was rolled back over once he was thoroughly coated on the other side and hauled up into a new position.

It wasn’t normal. No old man should have that kind of strength and as though hearing his thoughts the old man responded.

“Magic is good for many things and increasing strength is just one of them. It’s extremely helpful with preparing meals and after several centuries of luring young men I have the spell down perfectly. Almost as perfectly as I have down the one to clean everything in you out so my meal isn’t tainted.”

A fucking cannibal warlock. What the fuck?

Dean’s mind raced and he didn’t realize he’d said it out loud until he heard the laugh. “Cannibalism came first and magic second, sadly, or I’d look much younger. I’ve yet to want to sacrifice what’s needed for my youth when I can simply use magic to maintain myself as I am. Back before magic I killed my meals, cleaned them and then prepared them. Now everything is much simpler.”

His body was easily moved as a pan was slid onto the table and Dean ended up on it. The old man hauled his arms behind his back and tied them together with wire that sliced into Dean’s skin before tying Dean’s ankles together with another length of wire. Something was tied around his neck, moved under his body and secured to the wire at his feet so he couldn’t raise himself up.

When it was all finished his legs were tucked up under him and his body was folded with his limbs secured.

Footsteps moved away and came back. Dean’s head was yanked up, his mouth pried open and a metal ring was shoved inside. It forced his mouth open as the old man buckled it behind his head.

“This will help keep your mouth open for this last part.”

Two bowls of stuffing were set down near him along with the shorter homemade tool from before. Dean only had a few seconds of terror before stuffing was being forced down his throat. He swallowed it down out of reflex so he could breath and tried desperately to drag in air as stuffing was repeated forced down with that same tool that had pushed it deep into his ass.

Dean’s empty stomach ached violently as more and more stuffing was forced down his throat. He could feel the way his stomach stretched as it was filled beyond capacity but the old man didn’t stop until both bowls were empty and tears were spilling down Dean’s cheeks.

A sob of relief escaped when the last bowl was empty but Dean only had a few seconds after the ring was removed before an apple was shoved in. His mouth was forced shut so his teeth bit into the apple and something was tied behind his head securing the apple in place.  

* * *

 

“There we go. That should keep the apple in your mouth so it doesn't fall out during the cooking process.” Lawrence grinned at the delicious picture in front of him. The apple stuffed in the mouth really added to the overall presentation. “You’re ready and just in time. I’m going to enjoy this,” he leaned in close, “I haven’t eaten a hunter in a couple decades and never one as young and fresh as you are.”

He reached under Dean and rubbed against the full swell of Dean's distended belly where the stuffing filled his stomach and intestines. It was a larger amount of stuffing then normal but to see and feel the plumpness of the hunter's belly had him filled with undeniable satisfaction. He moved his hand over the swell as the hunter whimpered and cried on the pan.

Lawrence went back over to the island and picked up his seasoned oil mixture before moving back to his squirming and sobbing meal. Humming to himself, sadistic pleasure coursing through him, Lawrence added some more to soft, tan skin. There was enough seasoned butter on the hunter's belly and thighs but he didn't think there was enough oil elsewhere. He picked up his brush and quickly moved it over the newest coating.

Standing behind the hunter he liberally brushed oil onto the soft dick and balls, over the swell of the hunter's gloriously plump ass and tempting thighs. This was going to be one of his better meals. Lawrence finished with a flourish as he brushed oil on the hunter's freckled cheeks and grinned at the apple stuffed in his mouth.

"I'm really going to enjoy this." he grabbed his camera, wanting to capture the before and after process of his meal, as he snapped a few pictures from each angle. The camera was placed down on the counter before Lawrence returned to his waiting meal.

With a skip in his step he moved over to the counter, picked up his marinade injector and the bowl with his homemade marinade, before filling the injector. Humming he stuck the needle into the meat of Dean's right thigh, injecting the marinade, before he slowly started moving around.

Lawrence made sure to inject plenty of the marinade into Dean's thighs, the meat of his round ass, this arms and various points along his delicious meal's body. The marinade would make sure to add plenty of additional flavor to Dean's natural rich taste, something that would compliment the stuffing, and it had the added benefit of causing Dean to sob out into the apple each time he injected more of the marinade into him.

"That was my special, homemade marinade I just injected into you. I like to make sure my meal is thoroughly seasoned and prepared for the right flavor." he grinned as he set the injector down.

He pulled the door to the oven open and guided the table forward. The wheels creaked softly at the weight on the table as it rolled across the floor before stopping as the end of the table pressed up against the oven. It was the perfect height to slide the pan onto the rack inside the oven. Lawrence gripped the edges of pan and slid it along the top of the table as the hunter, Dean Winchester his license had read, started to jerk and struggle. Muffled threats and screams reached Lawrence’s ears, but he kept hauling Dean forward.

It was easy to imagine taking that first bite, savoring the rich flavor and eating until he was comfortably full. Lawrence hated hunters and knowing such a delicious meal would come from one only had him savoring the thought of eating this particular meal even more.

He pulled the pan closer and closer as his meal struggled harder. Lawrence could see the naked fear in bright green eyes as Dean got closer and closer into sliding into the open oven. A grin of delight pulled at his lips as he rubbed his hand along the slick, oiled skin. The oil would help with the cooking process and give the skin a nice crunch.

Without remorse Lawrence used enough force to start guiding the pan into the oven. Muffled screams of panic filled the room as inch by inch the pan easily slid inside. Lawrence closed his eyes, listening to the sweet sounds and regretted the apple for a moment, before he continued to push the pan in.

The hunter deserved the slow torture of cooking alive and knowing he was going to be eaten by one of the very things he hunted and killed.

“Don’t worry I’ll kill any of your fellow hunters later. They may or may not have the same fate depending on their age and how ripe they are but they will know exactly what happened to you. I always take pictures before cooking and of the finished product before I start cutting off pieces to eat. I'll make sure to show them. They'll get to see you all prepared. I’ll have images of how good you look with a golden brown cook to your skin and stuffing leaking out of your plump ass.”

Lawrence gave the pan one more push and left the door wide open as he bent down to pull open the bottom. He focused on starting the fire, wanting something smaller so the fire could build up and Dean could slowly cook. Lawrence didn’t want the hunter to die too quickly.

He wanted Dean to _suffer_.

Above him, as the fire lit and started to grow, the sounds of panic increased. It was such a sweet kind of music as Lawrence lazily stoked the fire, watched it spread and felt the heat increasing.

Slowly he moved back and shut the door before moving the wooden table back so he could have a clearer view of the hunter attempting to struggle as the fire below him continued to grow.

“Feel that?” he grinned, “I told you that you were going to feel the fire slowly cooking you? Feel how it’s warming that fat belly of yours. Can you smell yourself cooking?”

The hunter started to howl and scream into the apple, struggling on the pan that was no doubt burning the flesh of his knees and face, as the fire began cooking him. Lawrence could feel the heat of it increasing in the kitchen and he could see the way the flames had grown.

He remained standing there, watching as the hunter was slowly cooked alive and thinking about all of the stuffing he’d managed to fill the hunter with. “You smell better than I thought.” Lawrence inhaled, moaning at the scent of cooking meat, as he watched with rapt attention and hungry greed. “Look at that hole filled with stuffing and plugged up with a fresh carrot." his eyes hungrily stared at the carrot peeking out of Dean's stuffed ass, "At least hunters are good for something.”

It was easy to imagine removing the carrot once the hunter was finished cooking and indulging in that delicious stuffing inside Dean along with his main course.

Lawrence remained in the kitchen, keeping the door open and knowing that would let some of the heat out, as he stared at the hunter cooking. He made sure to keep the fire going nice and hot as the scent of cooking flesh saturated his senses.

It was a slight shame, in his earlier years this pretty little thing was the type that made a good whore, but Lawrence was more interested in a pleasant meal than a fuck and while he could have tried for both he couldn't risk it. There was probably another hunter or two nearby and he was more hungry than horny. There was no point in risking his life on a fuck. He could always try for a good fuck at a later date when he wasn't worried about hunters breaking his door down.

It would take hours for his meal to cook completely through and Lawrence reluctantly shut the oven door as Dean’s movements started to slow and the beautiful howling lessened. He stared in at the cooking hunter and his stomach growled in hunger as his mouth watered at the sight. As his eyes gazed at the swell of the hunter's ass he noticed the heavy ball sac hanging.

“Dammit.” He cursed softly, “I forgot to remove the balls first.” Lawrence glanced mournfully over at the pot on the stove he’d been heating oil in and sighed. “Next time. I’ll remember next time.”


	2. Dinner Served

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the continuation my friend basically begged and blackmailed me for. I was given a few points in which she wanted included and according to her, sadistic person that she is, it met her expectations. If you didn't like the first part I can guarantee you'll not like this part.
> 
> Unless you're a Hannibal fan or something cause this shows what happens after Lawrence cooks his meal AKA poor Dean. I'll include the prompt points my friend gave for this second chapter. As I mentioned previously this whole thing was due to a lost bet and this second chapter is due to begging/blackmail on her part. Plus two others seemed interested as well so...

Lawrence sighed in pleasure as he breathed in the scent of cooking meat. His entire home smelled of the nice, succulent scent of the cooking hunter. It had been hours since the screaming and howling had stopped. He placed his book down and climbed to his feet to check on the progress.

He was practically vibrating with excitement over a delicious, well prepared meal.

“Mmmmm.” Lawrence smiled, pleased, as he looked into the oven. “Let’s see if you’re done yet.” He pulled the oven door open and after putting on a mitt he pulled the pan towards himself. The sharp end of the thermometer pushed into the golden brown skin.

He waited, humming to himself and marveling at the almost perfect cook on the skin.

“A little longer.” He murmured as he glanced at the temperature. It was close to perfect but another thirty minutes should have the hunter completely cooked through.

Carefully Lawrence added a little more of his melted butter mixture before he pushed the pan back into the oven before using a tong to remove the cooked carrot. He could see the stuffing cooking just inside the gaping hole and moaned softly. It looked delicious.

With a pleased grin he shut the door after glancing down to see the fire still merrily burning away.

Lawrence walked over to his stove, opened the door and using tongs turned his potato, before closing the door and turning to the pan on the stove. Lawrence gave everything a quick stir, checking to make sure nothing was burning and everything was on a low simmer, before he went over to the bottle of wine he’d had chilling.

There was a knock on the door as Lawrence finished pouring himself some wine. With a sigh he walked from the kitchen into the sitting room, holding his glass, and stepped out into the hall to head towards the door. A glance out revealed a middle-aged man with a day’s worth of scruff.

Probably another hunter.

Lawrence unlocked the door and opened it, “Hello!” he smiled pleasantly, “Are you lost? I get quite a few lost hunters and hikers around here.”

“No. I’m looking for my boy. He was out in the woods and I haven’t seen him for hours.” He watched with concealed amusement as the hunter’s nose caught the scent of cooking meat. Lawrence heard the hunter’s stomach growl with hunger as the man continued to take in a few breaths of the scent of his own son cooking, “Smells like I’m interrupting dinner.”

Lawrence breathed in the scent with relish and a soft moan of pleasure, “Doesn’t it smell good?” the question had the hunter breathing in the scent deeper and nodding in agreement, “It’s still cooking and I’m sorry to say I haven’t seen anyone around this part of the woods for over a week. Do you have a picture of him? If you give me a number I can reach you at I would be more than happy to call you if I see him.”

The man frowned as he glanced into the house, still breathing evenly, as he opened his mouth to say something. Lawrence almost laughed when he heard the hunter’s stomach growl in hunger even louder and had he already carved up the one in the oven he would have loved to have fed this hunter a piece of his own son.

It would have been poetic.

Then he would have tried his hand at making some jerky out of the older hunter. It was really all his older catches were good for after all.

“I would invite you in for dinner but I’m afraid it’s still cooking and I’m sure you would rather spend time looking for your son.”

“Thank you for the offer.” The hunter paused and hesitantly reached into his coat to retrieve a picture. “He looks like this.”

It was a great image of the hunter Lawrence was currently cooking in his oven and showed off a mischievous smile on a face Lawrence had last seen full of terror. Dean Winchester had truly been a beautiful specimen of a young man but Lawrence was more than sure he would be a beautiful specimen of a lovingly cooked meal. He made a show of leaning forward to look at it, squinting and humming in thought.

“No. I haven’t seen him. Good looking boy you’ve got there. I’m sure if someone saw him they would remember.” Lawrence leaned back, “He could have walked to town. Do you have a number I could reach you at?”

He pocketed the number when it was handed to him and watched the hunter step back, wary and distracted, as he glanced behind him. “Thanks. If you see him I’d appreciate that call.”

“Of course. Good luck finding him. I’m sure he just managed to get turned around.” Then he couldn’t help but add, “I know there have been several young men lost in these woods. I hope yours won’t be added to that number.” He paused and couldn’t help himself, “If you find yourself back around here and looking for a break I know I’ll have more than enough leftovers. You could enjoy a plate or two before continuing your search.”

Lawrence watched the hunter nod absentmindedly before turning back and trudging off with a sigh. If that had been another young hunter he would have had to have restrained them and kept them locked up until he was ready for another meal.

He carefully locked the door, checked his windows to make sure the curtains were drawn, before moving back into the kitchen. A glance at the clock showed he needed to turn his potato again and that the hunter should be the perfect temperature to be pulled from the oven.

The scent filling his home was absolutely heavenly as Lawrence savored the aroma as he turned his potato again and turned to the large oven. “This is going to be perfect.” He breathed out as he made sure the table was in place along with several flat mitts to rest the hot pan on.

Lawrence pulled open the oven, eyes roving over the golden brown cook of the hunter’s plump ass and the rich stuffing peeking out of Dean’s hole. His oven mitt covered hands tugged the pan out carefully, moving it inch by inch, until he had the pan in place on the solid table.

Dean’s skin had cooked to a nice, golden brown. The fire from the oven had been the perfect temperature leaving smooth cooked skin. “Beautiful.” Lawrence breathed as hunger and a hint of arousal burned inside him.

There was nothing like a gorgeous, well-cooked young man all plump and filled with stuffing. He could see the large swell of Dean’s belly where the copious amounts of stuffing had bloated him.

“Need to let you cool first.” He murmured as he stepped back, rolling the table back from the oven and shutting the door.

Lawrence swiftly dealt with the fire, knowing the smoke would escape out of his vent, before collecting his camera. He took pictures of each angle of the hunter’s cooked body. Several of Dean’s golden brown thighs, the plump ass cooked perfectly and a picture from the front where the apple was still secured in Dean’s mouth keeping it wide open.

“These will look beautiful in my scrapbook.”

He would need another of the hunter’s hole once he had the cut needed for the stuffing filling Dean’s insides.

Slowly he moved away to pull out his potato and to turn off the pans on the stove. Pleasure had him singing softly under his breath as he moved around the kitchen, preparing the rest of his meal and occasionally glancing at the wooden table to look at his main course.

It was one of the best cooks yet.

Lawrence collected his sharpest knife, a large bowl and plate, before heading back over to the table. He took a long moment to appreciate the gaping hole and the stuffing he could see nestled inside.

The stuffing was just peeking out and with a few expert cuts he could easily use a spoon to scoop out some of the moist stuffing. “Just two more pictures.” He murmured to himself once the stuffing was easily seen.

A picture of his meal’s cooked ass, stuffed full of stuffing, was added to his collection before Lawrence focused in earnest on preparing his meal. He scooped out a large portion of the stuffing he’d cooked inside Dean, putting it into a bowl, before placing his spoon down.

“Thighs or ass?”

It was a truly hard decision as he pursed his lips and looked over both possibilities. The plump ass was stuffed full of glorious stuffing, had a perfect cook on it and Lawrence knew it would be a succulent meal. He had also taunted Dean about eating it first.

“It isn’t as though I won’t eat the rest later.”

His fingers curled around his knife before moving around to the hunter’s left thigh. The blade easily sliced through the cooked muscle as Lawrence focused on carefully carving out a good portion for his first meal.

Lawrence added each new piece to the large plate, marveling at the thorough cook and the delicious smell. “You turned out better than I had hoped.” Once he’d carved off enough from the left thigh and a chunk off of the ass Lawrence opened the oven up once more.

It took a little bit to situate the pan back inside and close the door to keep his meal warm. There was a bounce in his step as he put his plate together and placed it over on his kitchen table. Lawrence settled down in his seat, placed his napkin in his lap and after cutting up the meat he placed a chunk into his mouth.

Flavor burst across his taste buds as his eyes slid closed and a moan of appreciation escaped him around the mouthful. It was everything he had hoped for and more. He slowly chewed his bite, savoring every single moment of that first piece, before swallowing.

His next bite included stuffing and homemade gravy he’d perfected to go along with his meals. It was a truly indulgent bite and he didn’t hold back any of his sounds of enjoyment. While it had been one of his easier hunts for a meal, the meal did walk up to his door and knock, it was still a truly decadent meal that deserved to be appreciated.

Lawrence slowly ate his meal, taking time to enjoy every single bite. He knew he’d be disappointed when this particular meal was gone. It was one of his best recipes and the seasoning for his stuffing, with the added butter inside of Dean prior to stuffing, added richness to the flavor.

It was one of those times he was truly grateful for the benefits of using magic to preserve his meals. He could enjoy both the meal and the stuffing until it was gone without worry.

After awhile his stomach started to fill and with a groan of satisfaction at a good, fulfilling meal, Lawrence finished the last bite and leaned back in his chair. His eyes slid closed as he relaxed and breathed in the lingering scent of his meal hanging in the air.

Lawrence waited a few minutes before pushing back from the table and turning to glance at the oven. He needed to carve his meal and carefully store everything in his spelled freezer.

With great care he guided the table back and using the oven mitts removed the pan from the still warm oven. His eyes flicked over the warm, golden skin as he moved the pan into the center of the table.

The oven was shut once more and Lawrence moved about gathering up the large number of containers he’d specifically purchased for this very situation. A few more were gathered for the large amount of stuffing he would be removing as he carved the meat off of the bones.

Lawrence sharpened his favorite knife, collected a serving fork and focused on the task at hand. He started with the calves, carving with skill gained from centuries of hunting and cooking, before moving up to the meaty thighs.

Each container was carefully labeled for which part of the body the meal had come from so he could find exactly what he wanted later. Lawrence whistled under his breath as he worked, carving off the meat and removing stuffing as he went.

Once he’d finished with the legs he focused on the meat of Dean’s ass and with practiced ease he removed the wires from the wrists and ankles. Next he focused on the arms, removing the meat and placing it in its container, before stepping back to glance over what was left.

“You have so much good meat on those bones of yours.” He praised as he reached out and turned what was left over onto the hunter’s back.

The large, impressive swell of Dean’s belly was more than evidence from this angle. Lawrence whistled lowly with appreciation as his fingers ghosted over the huge, round belly full of stuffing and a grin pulled at his lips.

Wordlessly he snapped a few pictures of it. He always wanted pictures of the more mouthwatering parts of his meals preserved and the bulge of stuffing was one of those parts.

“I’ll have more than enough stuffing to last with the meat this time.”

He continued carving off meat and eventually turned to the belly. With a few expert cuts he started to remove the moist stuffing and placed it into its containers. It was rewarding work, knowing he would be enjoying every last delicious morsel later, as he continued carving.

Once Lawrence had gotten everything possible off of the body he stepped back to marvel at the full containers and what was left of Dean Winchester still resting on the pan. He started to move the containers to the freezer he had specifically for the purpose of storing his meals when the knock sounded at his door.

Lawrence furrowed his brow before quickly turning towards the pan on the table. He guided it back over to the oven and once he had it safely stored inside, the door shut once more, he quickly moved towards the door where another knock sounded.

“Hello again.” Lawrence offered a smile at the hunter standing before him. “Did you find him?”

The despair in the hunter’s eyes seemed to increase and a heavy frown stole over his features. “No. I was hoping he had come back this way or that you might have heard something. I’ve been trying to retrace his steps.”

Lawrence thought back to their previous conversation and held the door open wider with an inviting, yet understanding, expression on his face. “I haven’t seen him but you look like you’re about to drop. Why don’t you come on inside, enjoy a nice warm meal and give your mind a chance to recharge.”

He guided the hunter inside, deeply amused at his plan, as the hunter seemed to hesitate just inside the door. “I really should—”

“Nonsense. What good are you going to do if you can’t focus because you’re tired or hungry?” he settled the hunter down at the kitchen table and moved around the kitchen occasionally glancing at the oven where the true piece of evidence for the hunter’s son’s disappearance hid.

Lawrence kept an eye on the hunter as he dished up stuffing, carved up some of the meat in one of his containers and gathered up some of his remaining gravy. He hummed lowly as he heated it up, attention mostly focused on the hunter, before he turned to move towards his kitchen table.

He placed the heaping plate down, the largest portion on the plate was the meat for his own amusement, as he turned to gather up silverware and a napkin.

“Something to drink? A beer perhaps?”

“Sure.” The voice was gruff as the hunter looked at the plate with hunger clearly filling his features, “This looks good. I haven’t had a home cooked meal in a while.”

Lawrence placed the beer down and patted the hunter on the shoulder, “This is a new recipe with only the _freshest ingredients_. You’ll have to let me know how you like it.” He stepped away and kept his eyes locked on the hunter as the man picked up the knife and fork.

His eyes tracked the way the hunter cut up the meat, added gravy to his plate and making sure to get some of everything on his fork slowly brought the bite up to his mouth. Lawrence’s cheeks flushed lightly as he watched the hunter’s lips wrapping around the fork as the bite of meat, gravy and stuffing filled the hunter’s mouth.

There was a low moan of appreciation, the hunter’s eyes closing briefly at the flavor, before opening and focusing back on the plate. The bites came faster and with more enthusiasm as the hunter started to practically inhale the food.

“How does it taste?” Lawrence asked with a small curl of his lips and vicious pleasure filling him as he watched the hunter _savor_ the taste of his own son. “Do you think I should keep this recipe? Or should I spice it up for the next one?”

The hunter chewed the bite in his mouth and glanced over, “It’s one of the best meals I’ve had in awhile. I wouldn’t change it.” As almost an afterthought, it seemed, the hunter continued. “Thank you for inviting me in. I haven’t eaten since I realized Dean had disappeared earlier.”

“You’re welcome.” Lawrence grinned as he glanced at the slowly emptying plate, “Would you like some more stuffing?” he offered as he watched the hunter pause and nod in agreement. As he heated up some more stuffing he idly wondered what he was going to do about this particular hunter.

The man was far older than he usually hunted but he was obviously tenacious and wasn’t going to stop until he found his son. Lawrence glanced over at the oven and decided he’d dump Dean’s remains far away from his home for the hunter to find.

He’d leave the apple in Dean’s mouth for his own amusement.

If the man returned again then Lawrence would have to kill him and try to find a recipe that would spice him up to make a decent meal or snack until he ran out of Dean’s meat and had to hunt again. Lawrence pulled the bowl out and placed it down next to the hunter silently.

“Thanks.” The hunter offered a nod of appreciation and returned to his meal with gusto. _You’re welcome. I’m sure your son would love to know how much you’re enjoying him_ Lawrence thought smugly as he stepped away to start putting up the rest of his meal.

If he did end up killing this hunter he’d make sure to let the man know exactly how he’d been enjoying as a meal. He might even have his newest pictures added to his book by then to share with the hunter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well that is the end of this particularly fucked up piece of work (at least Dean's story). I feel like I need to go cleanse my soul and watch Disney for 48 hours or possibly 72 hours. Something that is fluffy and lighthearted cause WOW. To those of you who enjoyed this, cause I think there are like 3 of you haha, hopefully this was everything you imagined it would be. Idk.
> 
> Now you made it this far...what did you think about that?
> 
> Here are the prompt points for the second chapter I was given and I'll be damned if I didn't manage all of them...
> 
> -John stumbles across Lawrence while Dean is cooking but leaves after only asking if Lawrence has seen Dean  
> -Lawrence thinking about feeding Dean to John  
> -Lawrence takes more pics of finished meal, carves himself a serving  
> _Lawrence, bless his evil heart, thoroughly enjoying eating Dean :D  
> -Lawrence carving Dean up to store, maybe taking some more pics  
> -John showing up later and Lawrence delightfully feeding John's son to him  
> -Maybe a hint that Lawrence is going to kill John later cause let's face it Lawrence is a fucked up witch
> 
> Yes they are fucked up and numerous...but this whole thing was fucked up so really it followed a pattern that should be expected by the time you get to the second chapter of this. The slightly less fucked up version is, of course, "part 2" that has Dean surviving.
> 
> There will actually be a third part to this series because my fucked up friend (she knows she is and she accepts it so it's fine so say that) asked for a third part as her birthday gift. I already have the prompt points for it and it's...just as fucked up so you've got that to look forward to in the future. Also another beloved character(s) will, unfortunately, end up in Lawrence's kitchen...

**Author's Note:**

> Before I get comments for this fic I want to point out that this was a prompt. I did not come up with the basic idea nor some of the very specific elements (ie. stuffing/oiling and the actual cooking) like all the fics on this account. All the fics I've written under this username are prompt fills.
> 
> This was written because I lost a bet and my friend came to me with this one saying she wanted to see what I could do with another "truly fucked up prompt" so here we are.
> 
> Also she **loves** Hannibal: both the TV show and movies so I know that contributed to her choice as well /shrugs/. As you can tell by the second chapter, where I list the prompt points she sent me, you'll see that she has totally watched WAY TOO MUCH Hannibal and has a truly fucked up imagination...this particular theme carries throughout this entire series.


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